


all pretense aside

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Face-Fucking, First Time, M/M, Swordplay, but actual swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Felix lunges before Dimitri’s in a ready-position, and still finds his swing parried. Dimitri steps back, finally readying himself. His lance points straight out, limiting the proximity Felix can gain on him. Dimitri thrusts, Felix parries, sending the point of the lance off to the side and darts toward Dimitri. He lands a critical blow on his torso. And just like that, it’s over.“Again,” Dimitri barks.“Fine.”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46
Collections: Anonymous





	all pretense aside

The houses each have their mission for the month fast approaching, and the training ground is bustling. Students left and right are sparring to prepare themselves. Catherine has her hands full with students who come to her for advice on their posture, their technique. Even the Professor has come to help various students prepare. She maintains her general hands-off approach with anyone who isn’t a Blue Lion. Felix admires her for it, though you’d be hard-pressed to get him to admit it. Felix spars with several people from his own house, and a few acquaintances from others, before Dimitri approaches him. Before he can say anything, Felix is on the offense.

“What is it? Haven’t I steered clear enough of your gaze today?” Felix says.

“Come, Felix. Let’s fight.” Dimitri says. Felix is thankful at least for getting straight to the point. “I’ve not found anybody up to the task today. I know you always are.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere. But… Yes. I will spar with you.” Felix unsheathes his practice sword. He plants a foot backward, readying himself. So far today, he’s also been unable to find anybody to truly challenge him, and the Professor is too busy with other students, so the prince will have to do.

“Ah, excellent.” Dimitri says. He holds his lance in hand already, like he knew Felix would agree.

Already, the students nearest to them begin to gawk. Many of them are aware of the “rivalry” between Felix and Dimitri, misguided as the term might be. Felix might describe it as “fervent hatred”, at least on his end. He doesn’t concern himself with how the Boar feels about him. Felix pays no mind to the students surrounding them, opportunists looking for a show. Dimitri appears to do the same.

Felix lunges before Dimitri’s in a ready-position, and still finds his swing parried. The first knock of their weapons together draws more attention to them. Dimitri steps back, finally readying himself. His lance points straight out, limiting the proximity Felix can gain on him. Dimitri thrusts, Felix parries, sending the point of the lance off to the side and darts toward Dimitri. He lands a critical blow on his torso. And just like that, it’s over.

“Again,” Dimitri barks.

“Fine.”

This time Dimitri moves first. He charges and swings his lance down toward Felix, who jumps back before lunging again. Dimitri brings his lance in to block just in time. He knocks Felix back and he falls to the ground, where Dimitri jabs the stone just beside his head.

“Again,” Felix says from his place on the ground.

“Yes,” Dimitri says, breathing hard.

They continue this way, trading wins and losses, for hours. At first, students abandon their own training to watch the poor Prince of Faerghus fight the poor second-rate Fraldarius heir. As time drones on, the only ones who remain entertained are Felix and Dimitri. Students filter out or return to their own sparring partners.

As they fight, Felix finds himself more intent on winning. On pulling one over on the prince. In the beginning, Felix was secure in his ability to win. He thought it’d be a match or two and the prince would grow discouraged and sulk somewhere else in the monastery. He didn’t anticipate the long game, and he didn’t anticipate feeling so strongly about it, either. There’s something bright and burning inside him, despite how ragged and exhausted his body grows. It’s a hot and longing feeling, and whether it’s toward the fight or the prince, he doesn’t know. If it’s toward the prince, it’s about winning, about pinning him against the wall, about beating him, about seeing him fall. Through bleary eyes he struggles to see the source of his emotions.

After some time, the only souls left on the training grounds are Felix, Dimitri, and the Professor. She watches them intently, has been for a while. Occasionally, she’ll shout pointers and criticisms and praise. Until eventually, even she leaves. Felix and Dimitri are alone.

Dimitri grows obviously tired. Felix is tired as well, but he’s better at concealing it. Dimitri paces at one end of the training grounds, having separated from Felix for respite.

“Again,” Dimitri shouts, breathless.

“Hmph,” is all Felix says.

Dimitri starts a slow run toward Felix, picking up speed as he approaches. He lets a cry soar from his chest as he swings his lance up at his opponent. Felix sidesteps and takes his own swing. Dimitri rolls forward and under Felix’s sword, regaining his footing now behind Felix. Dimitri fights with renewed strength and Felix almost struggles to keep up after so many hours.

Dimitri drives his lance forward. Felix turns, blocks the swipe and pushes hard, knocking the lance out of Dimitri’s hands. It clatters to the stone tile.

Dimitri gets this look in his eye, like he can’t focus, like his focus has never been clearer. He lunges forward, hands reaching out to Felix’s hips. He takes them nearly tumbling into the wall. It knocks the wind out of Felix.

“Ah— fuck, finally,” Felix says, breathless, almost growling. Dimitri has his teeth in Felix’s neck, the heat of his mouth permeating the sweat-cooled skin there. He pulls off with a smack to retort.

“Be quiet, before I think better of it.” Dimitri presses harder against him. Felix’s back moulds to the cool stone. There’s a smattering of footsteps, the creak of the door at the end of the hall but they don’t separate. No one enters the training grounds.

Dimitri pulls back and admires his handiwork. Oh, that smug fucking look on his face. Felix bolts up off the wall and reverses their positions. Dimitri’s got the height advantage and Felix can’t quite reach his neck so he tears at the ruffled shirt Dimitri’s wearing, freeing a button, and goes at his collarbones, worrying them with his teeth and tongue. He presses a thigh between Dimitri’s legs. Dimitri hisses.

“Felix,” he says, warning in his voice.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Felix says, rearing back. “Not here. Not now.”

And he’s right. In this moment, they are equals. There is no prince, there is no swordsman. There are no hierarchical families, there are no royal ties. There is not even a Faerghus to speak of, not now. It all disappears under the heat of lust.

Somewhere, the dinner bell is rung. The sun falls steadily, only just visible over the battlements of the training grounds.

Felix presses a palm to Dimitri’s insistent bulge, and Dimitri bucks into his hand.

“Ah,” Felix says as he pulls away. “Can’t have you enjoying yourself too much.” Felix reverses them once again so that his own back is to the wall. “Come now, on your knees.”

Dimitri falls, obedient. Felix graciously undoes his own trousers. He pulls them down just enough so that his cock springs out to meet Dimitri’s waiting mouth. Dimitri takes him in and begins to work his mouth around the shaft. He pulls back to lap at the underside and Felix’s balls.

“Good,” Felix grunts. He rakes a hand through Dimitri’s hair, leaving it disheveled from its normal just-so way of sitting. He does this once more, this time taking hold of Dimitri by the back of the head. “Hold still,” he says.

Slowly, though not out of concern, Felix begins to thrust into Dimitri’s mouth. Saliva flows over Dimitri’s bottom lip and drips in a long thread to the floor. His lips are pink and glossy from it. The cape fastened to his shoulder covers one arm and drapes onto the floor. Here, like this, knees to the ground and hands on knees, Felix will admit his beauty. When he relinquishes his regal facade and allows himself to be bossed around, when he’s got his mouth full and can’t offer aimless pleasantries, Felix finds him pleasing to the eye.

Dimitri chokes a bit and Felix reflexively stills, almost releasing his vice grip. He wants to grip harder, press in. He stops because he doesn’t want the prince to abandon this endeavor before Felix gets his share of the fun from it. Felix stops short of any kind of comfort for the prince, however; he just watches as Dimitri closes his eyes and breathes to regain composure, looking filthy with cock still in his mouth.

Dimitri hums around Felix, so he continues. Dimitri’s tongue flickers along the underside of Felix’s cock. Felix grows a bit messier with his thrusts, less forgiving. He reaches down with his free hand and wipes away a tear that wells up in Dimitri’s eye, finding that same out-of-control look on his face. Dimitri reaches up to grasp at the ends of Felix’s shirt, his breathing coming and going sharply through his nostrils.

Felix knows their presences will be missed at dinner. Everyone in the monastery must know by now that they were sparring for hours on end. It wouldn’t be out of the question for someone to come looking for them here, for someone to find them like this. He feels a tugging in the pit of his stomach at the thought. His knees begin to tremble.

“Fuck,” Felix says. Dimitri hums again, and it almost sounds like a question. It feels good enough that Felix doesn’t tell him to be quiet. He thrusts deep into Dimitri’s throat before pulling back so that just the head of his cock rests on Dimitri’s tongue. He doesn’t even have to touch his cock anymore before he comes. Dimitri breathes, hot and ragged as Felix comes into his mouth. Dimitri looks like the taste of it displeases him, and that gives Felix an idea. He maintains his grip on Dimitri’s hair and tilts his head back so that his mouth opens wider.

“Here,” Felix says, and spits into Dimitri’s mouth. “Wash it down.”

Dimitri’s eyes grow wide and he closes his mouth and swallows. Finally, Felix releases him. Dimitri breathes a few more deep breaths before he stands, and when he does, the look on his face has changed. Now, the look is one of dark desire, and Felix knows what comes next.

Felix turns and Dimitri immediately puts a hand to the back of his head and, rather gently, presses his face into the wall.

Dimitri pulls at Felix’s trousers until they hang around his knees. Risky, Felix thinks, and feels his cock twitch again at the thought of it. He looks back to see Dimitri tearing off a glove with his teeth before spitting into his hand. He presses two fingers to Felix’s rim to test the waters before slipping one inside. Felix lets out a pathetic yelp; it’s been too long since he’s done this. Dimitri presses in, knuckle deep. When he leans forward to bite and suck at Felix’s neck, Felix lets out a shuddering sigh.

“Ah,” Dimitri says, pulling back. “Wouldn’t want you enjoying yourself when it’s my turn. Can’t fucking wait, anyway.” Dimitri undoes his own trousers and lines himself up with Felix.

Admittedly, Felix is worried about the lack of preparation. At the same time, he’s hard again and wants to be fucked, so he doesn’t worry too much.

Dimitri presses against Felix’s hole, agonizingly slow. By the time the head of Dimitri’s cock is inside, Felix’s legs are ready to give out on him. As much as he wants this, he hates the vulnerability of it all. He hates that he can’t even look the prince in the eye while he does it. He hears Dimitri spit again and feels him reach for his cock. Then, one hand finds his hip and the other finds the back of his head once again.

Dimitri sinks in to the base, now. He lets out a moan as he moves and it echoes up into the open sky above them, where night fast approaches. He begins thrusting with purpose, now, each stroke accompanied by a small grunt.

“So- Fucking- Tight,” Dimitri says, separated by thrusts.

“Oh, shut--” Felix starts, but is interrupted by Dimitri pressing his head harder into the stone.

“You be quiet,” he says. Felix figures it’s only fair.

Dimitri folds his body over Felix’s and continues to fuck him. He moves his hand from Felix’s head to his throat and lightly grips him there. Felix is not surprised that the prince likes to choke; nothing he hasn’t done before, surely.

Dimitri reaches around with his free hand and finds Felix’s half-hard cock. He strokes it lazily, a sharp contrast to his thrusting.

As Dimitri’s strokes get harder and deeper, his grip on Felix’s throat grows tighter. Felix lets out a choked breath and Dimitri seems to lose control when he hears it. His thrusts grow frantic and harsh; he’s hitting Felix in just the right spot but Felix can’t moan the way he wants to. Dimitri’s hand on Felix’s shaft grows still but Felix is close again, so Felix wraps his hand around Dimitri’s and helps him to keep stroking. As he comes again, a subtle gurgle comes from Felix’s windpipe and Dimitri all but crushes it in his fist. A feral roar rips from his chest as he comes, hot and insistent, inside of Felix. All at once he thrusts once more into Felix and releases his throat, pressing his nose into the nape of Felix’s neck and breathing deeply. He pulls out after a moment and Felix spins and gently shoves him away.

“Now what?” Dimitri says, righting his shirt and pulling up his trousers.

“What do you mean?” Felix hopes he’s not in for feelings.

“What do we do now?”

Felix finishes buttoning his trousers and he bends down to retrieve his practice sword.

“Again?” he says, brandishing it.

“That’s what I’d hoped you’d say,” Dimitri says, with a glint in his eye.

**Author's Note:**

> i know it's short, thanks for reading


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